A New Perspective
by Anteia
Summary: What I would have done. And insight or changes you suggest will be much appreciated.
1. Default Chapter

A New Perspective: Chapter 1  
  
So here it is and I couldn't imagine having been any other way about it. Logan is mine. I've claimed him right good if I do say so my self. It all started on that night in the bar. I shimmied my way right quick in there after my ride started to make dirty-old-man passes at me. Thank God we got to Laughlin city when we did or I would have had to drain that old fart of his last breath. He was so disgusting. Did you know he talked about how great his wife and kids were the first one hundred miles? And then what happened? His hand started to drift over my knee accidental like whenever we hit a bump. Typical. I seem to always meet up with the strangest of individuals. Guess that's because I'm not exactly 'normal', but what the hell does that mean anyway? Oops, I'm getting off topic. Where was I? Oh yes, we had just pulled up into Laughlin city and I walked into the bar happy to be rid of Ole Jim, as he liked to be called. Or, at least, I thought I was rid of him. Turns out he had some plans in mind for me yet; I just didn't know them then. Seems Ole Jim had some buddies waiting for him at the bar, so that as soon as I stepped in, they dragged me out: three including my charmin' driver. They shoved me and roughed me up real good, using my hair as reigns to lead me behind the building in a shadowy corner on top of a mound of snow. I wasn't scared or anything. I mean would you be if you had my type of power? I mean, as soon as they'd lay a hand (or other parts) on me that would be it for 'em. They'd go into a coma like poor Bobby did. Oh, Bobby. There's another issue that I just won't talk about right now; maybe later. So, there I was shoved onto my stomach in the snow just waiting for them to touch my skin when one of the guys opened up my duffle bag and spilled all the contents into the snow. I had to speak up then: "Hey, don't do that! They're gonna get soaking wet like that!" So, one of the jerk-offs answered: "Honey, in a few minutes you won't even remember that you own clothes." "Oh, please." I snorted, "There's no way you're going to be that good!" "We'll see about that, now shut the fuck up!" He said in a deep voice right before grabbing my hair in one hand while ripping open the back of my pants with the other. Now I got a little scared. Not because of the thought that I was going to be raped and brutalized horribly, but because none of my other pants looked as good on me! I mean, the inhumanity of it! My best pants being ripped open by this egotistical jerk! I took off one of my gloves and rolled over in a hurry. I mean, there was no way I was going to let him ruin my black top! Immediately, my hand on his face drained him of all color. And the things I saw. A whole man's life flashed before my eyes. His memories and feelings and skills and energy all flowed into the very center of my being. And you know what I saw? That I wasn't the first girl he'd done this to. There were even some boys in there as well. And he wasn't just a rapist, oh no. Him and his friends had killed a young girl once, by accident. He hated children. This was just his way of materializing that hatred. And all of a sudden I had hate. I digested all that corruption of soul and mind and focused it into that very basic feeling of disgust and loathe. In that moment I hated them all. In that moment I knew I was going to drain each one of them so long that they would never wake up. The man who attacked me first fell down at my side face first into the snow. I heard things like: "What the hell did you do?" From rapist number two. "You damn stupid bitch!" From good Ole Jimbo. They both rushed down to see what had happened to their friend and as they did I touched one's face while pinning the other down with my thigh. I don't need to tell you what I got from this one while sucking the soul out of him. He was very much like the first. Ole Jim, the one I had pinned under my leg, looked up at me from one very scared looking eye. He asked, "What, what the hell are you girl?" And I couldn't resist telling him. I know that smug look was on my face. You know, the one you get when you know you're going to win and the other person is going to lose. In a low voice I answered, "I'm going to be Ole Jim pretty soon, Suga." He had no idea what I was talking about, of course. He was too damn stupid to understand any of the things that he had just seen. But it didn't matter. He was still going to get what he most naturally he deserved. I placed a warm hand on his grisly old face. The memories were strong in him. His mind opened up a wellspring of pictures and emotion for the taking. Mostly, they were about his wife and children and the strong surge of love he had for them. But a good majority of the memories taken about them had his wife in the forefront. She rejected him in one memory after another. She was calling him worthless and a Two-Pump-Chump. All sorts of things I had never heard of before. Mixed in with those demeaning images were short flashes of his mother telling him pretty much the same thing. And I took pity on that old jerk even though I know I shouldn't have. I should have drained him dry. But I didn't. I thought, or rather he made me think about his children and what they would be like without him to support them. So, I couldn't drain him into a life-long comma. I mean, I'm not a heartless hussy or anything. I can be forgiving. Sometimes. I disconnected myself from him and he also fell face-first into the snow. And before you say anything at all, I know what a lightweight this makes me, but hey I'm not a killer. Those guys were the killers. Speaking of those guys. Their spirits made quite an impact on me. Not to mention their energy. I felt alive after draining them. I felt good. And my mind was not at all mine at that particular moment in time. My mind had absorbed theirs, at least temporarily. And I loved it! Even if they were horrific people, they too had something to ad to an otherwise passive and anal-retentive personality (mine). So with that I scooped my clothes back into my duffle, raided their pockets for money (because hey I never said I wasn't a little bit of a klepto), and headed into the bar. 


	2. A New Perspective Chapter 2

A New Perspective: Chapter 2  
  
Everything annoyed me then. Every little thing from the wetness of my duffle on my shoulder to the doorman at the bar eyeing me curiously when he asked for my I.D. and I offered a handshake. He just smiled a silent laugh and told me he was joking right before ushering me inside the pub. I would have laughed openly if I hadn't been so damn pissed off and frustrated as all hell. I had the rapist brigade to thank for my current state. But I couldn't let the emotions go just yet. I wouldn't let them go. Hate is a powerful emotion to have and I hadn't really felt much of anything lately the way I felt their anger. It seduced me and I found myself grasping to hold onto their personalities for just a little while longer. Or at least, that's how long I told myself I would hang onto it for. I was shocked out of the conversation about hate going on in my head when I heard a loud smack followed by successive waves of cheering rising from the center of the room. I had to find out what was going on. All the excitement and action lured me into the crowds where I could see what everyone was shouting about. A limp man had just been dragged off the floor of a fenced in cage. "Are you going to let this man walk away with your money?" A makeshift referee announced. I could barely see the other character from where I was standing. He faced away from me, so all I could make out was some impressive back muscles and a pair of blue jeans followed up with a real case of bead head. The crowd roared. I guess he had taken quite a bit of the gathering's cash already. "I'll fight 'im!" Shouted a burly bald guy who looked like Steve from the Springer show. My momma never let me watch that, but surprisingly enough, Jim turned out to be a long-time and loyal fan. The guy, I'll call him Steve, entered the cage and after a few words with the ref, he went to work on the shirtless character. He roughed him up quite a bit. So much in fact I thought it was going to be over pretty damn quick, but when he got hit below the belt the man got back on his feet and countered Steve's punch with one of his own. And oh mah God was this man gorgeous! He made short work out of the guy and left him lying there after giving him a swift kick to the side. Wow. The way he moved. What can I say? I mean, wow. It got me all weak in the knees to see a fellow predator. And I knew that was exactly what he was as soon as I saw him sniffing around the room and stalking back to his corner of the cage. Wow. I had to see what this guy was made of. Immediately, the men in my head suggested I go and fight him myself. I had the energy and strength to do so for at least the next thirty minutes, so why not? It would rid me of the frustration I felt if nothing else. So I shimmied my way up to the cage entrance and motioned for the fat little ref to come hither. He obliged. "I wanna fight that man." I said in the sweetest Southern voice I had. "I don't think so, child. This here is for men only. Why don't you go back and play fight with your Barbies or something?" And with that the little bastard walked away and probably didn't think twice about the exchange we just had. Meanwhile I was fuming. I mean, how dare that pig tell me a girl couldn't fight in the ring. I mean, did he even know how many masculine voices I had to answer to? No, I guess he didn't. But hell, that didn't matter! I told myself I'd get him back later on, when he least expected it. And that's just what I did. But I won't tell you about that just yet. It's not time. I will tell you, though that I sulked onto a nearby barstool, though and waited patiently for something to ease the tension I felt. Damn those horny old guys! 


End file.
